


What We Cannot Foresee

by ashisfriendly



Series: Absolutes [2]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their first kiss on assignment, Benji is trying to keep his promise to himself: stay away from Les so she can become the fierce, devoted member of the Jedi Council he knows she deserves to be. The only problem is he can't stay away from her. || Star Wars AU, Old Republic Era</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Cannot Foresee

**Author's Note:**

> This is my birthday gift to the Parks fandom for my birthday??? IS THAT ALLOWED? I don't know they are always so beautiful and wonderful to me so I'm making it so. Enjoy!

Benji spends a lot of time in the Archives now.

He’s spent a fair amount of time in here before, but that was to expand his mind, cram his brain with as much knowledge of the galaxy as he could, of the Jedi, of regulations and techniques, of the fathers and mothers of his religion. As a youngling, he thought that if he knew everything, he could be as good as he wished to be. 

Now, he’s here to avoid her.

Benji smiles, typing. He rubs his thumb over his mouth as if it will rid the taste of her on his lips, the memory of her, the attachment that’s weaving into his chest. Les hates the Archive, she used to tell him it was too quiet in there, too still. They studied for a faux assignment with a group of other padawans when they were 16 and Les rolled her eyes whenever she was shushed and squirmed in her seat as if the great still of this place couldn’t contain her.

He wouldn’t be surprised if that is true.

He’s alone, researching for an upcoming assignment with Master Jenn. He’s looking up governmental regulations in the Mustafar system but he can’t concentrate. This is the problem, this is why they’re resisting the urge to be together, this is why what they saw could never be.

It’s been weeks. Weeks since he kissed her just as he’s always wanted. Ever since he felt the energy radiating off of her as if she could grow flowers from her open palm, as if she could lift whole buildings, and convince an entire room to follow her lead. He’s been sucked into her for years now, something always pulsing inside him, connecting him to her. After kissing her, it’s become his whole world.

He wonders if his attachment to her is evidence enough of his weakness, how the Force isn’t strong enough in him, how he’s hardly a Jedi.

Benji shakes the thought from his head. It’s late. He decides to pace the halls, shutting down the computer. He closes his eyes as he wanders the aisles of the Archive, clearing his mind and feeling the shelves around him, the length of the floor, testing himself. This isn’t very hard, like predicting chance cubes, but it keeps his mind busy and working. He likes to use the Force as much as possible so he remembers it’s there.

Benji turns a corner and stops. There’s a prickling of sweetness on his tongue, a burning scent in his nose like wood is smoking. A warmth trickles along his chest and travels over him, simmering in his gut, sparking in his fingers. He senses her because she’s here, she’s close if he had to guess, and he tries desperately to cut her away. He breathes, clears his mind and searches out everything else. He sees flashes of others’ thoughts, some sand and other planets, star formations in other systems. It takes time, so much time, but then there’s nothing but clarity.

His visions filter through, but he doesn’t let any come. He’s afraid what he might see with her so close so he keeps his mind clear, tries to avoid anything specific. It works for a long time, so long that he allows himself to move again and lets his mind come back.

It’s a mistake because Les is there. He knows it. He can picture her so clearly behind his eyelids. Her hair is up, braid hanging over her shoulder, robes pristine and saber hanging off her hip. He tastes the sweetness on his tongue and he squeezes his eyes shut as a last ditch effort to keep them closed. It doesn’t work, he wants to see her. 

He’s missed her.

Unlike him, she’s open entirely. He senses herself opening up to him, letting him in. Their souls tangle with the Force around them and he knows they’re breathing together now. She’s closer now, which is almost scary because he didn’t sense either of them moving. Just breathing, breathing, breathing.

Her fingers graze his and his eyes open. There she is, so bright as if two suns rise inside her every day. Her eyes are still closed, jaw slack as she takes in deep breaths. He can’t help but match them, he has no control over it. Fuck, she’s powerful; magnetic and electric.

Les opens her eyes. He was craving the oceans that live in her eyes, the honesty, the energy. Her fingers move in his until they are woven together and tugging. Benji doesn’t know who is moving, who is leading, maybe it’s neither of them. He bends and she pushes on her toes until their lips connect.

He should worry. They’re in the Temple, the Archive, just some shelves and dim lighting keeping them hidden in a corner. He can’t move away, though, as if it simply can’t be so. His fingers slip over her neck, pulling her closer and Les’ lips part so he can taste her. Her tongue slides along his and she moans. He swears there’s wind in his hair and rushing water beneath their feet. Les pulls on his robes and Benji, greedy for more of her, slips his fingers just below her bottom lip, touching her soft skin, the slickness of their mouths. She takes a break to kiss his fingertips and then smiles into the next kiss against his lips.

“No, no, no,” Benji whispers, lining her lips with his tongue, kissing teeth and chin and cheeks.

“I missed you,” is Les’ response and Benji yanks himself away from her, breathing hard.

Her eyes are big and clear, almost lost. He watches her mind fog again, sees the error they just encountered together, and she pulls away.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Benji says, running a hand over his beard. “Me too.”

She must have felt it, too: the almost dizzying, uncontrollable pull to each other. There is no one to blame here, they are both innocent.

They are both hurting.

Benji avoids her again for another week. He’s gone for a few days, so that helps. The assignment goes well, just an out of hand negotiation over taxes. Benji has always loved arithmetic, and it was he who found the compromise that was agreed upon. Master Jenn told him she was proud of him and Benji held onto that reassurance for hours.

When they get back, Benji doesn’t go to his room, or to meditation, or to eat in the cafeteria. He goes up to the second floor observation deck and steps out onto the patio even though he knows she’s there.

He knew, he knew while he walked through the halls, saying hi to other padawans and knights. He knew as he climbed up the stairs and walked through the doorway. She is radiating her need for him, he’s afraid anyone could sense it, but knowing Leslie she has probably found a way to control it just enough so he is the only one who can.

Les hangs her head. Her back is to him, head down and shoulders slumped. She trembles a little, he can see it as the breeze takes small pieces of her hair through its fingers. Benji doesn’t move, afraid of what may happen if he does. He shouldn't have come here, but he had to. He has to be around her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, turning her head so he can see her in profile. The small lights of the deck are casting a very faint glow along her features. Her beautiful features. “I tried to stop my mind but I couldn’t and now you’re here and--”

“It’s okay,” Benji says. He walks quickly up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She melts into him. “I know, I know.”

He sensed her calling him, but he also sensed the struggle and that is why he’s here. Watching her break is hard, especially when he knows how to mend her.

“Are you meditating?” he asks, kissing her hair. She shakes her head no and he chuckles. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I am not, I can’t do it!”

Benji pulls back and lifts her chin with his forefinger. “You know that’s not true.” He places his thumb on her bottom lip and she kisses it. He swallows. “And you can’t think like that, only a Sith deals in absolutes.”

Les flicks her eyes to the sky and smiles. “That _is_ an absolute.”

Benji laughs, cupping her face, brushing his nose against hers. “Well, well, you really are going to join the Council some day. Change a few things.”

Even as he talks about her joining the Council, the very thing he’s helping to prevent by touching her, kissing her, loving her, he connects their lips briefly anyway.

She sighs and he can feel the static, fierce energy that always seems to follow Les Knope around slip away.

“Yes.” She kisses him, teases his mouth open just to taste. “I’m going to do so much.”

Benji’s chest expands to make room for his heart to jump and spin. He pulls her close and gives her deep, long kisses that are more movement than tongues. She moans and sighs and Benji presses his whole body into her so he can feel just as much of her physically as he does spiritually.

“You are,” he whispers against her mouth, trailing kisses on her cheek, along her jaw, on her neck. “You are.”

The sliding door to the observation deck slides open and they break apart. Benji adjusts his robes and turns toward the night sky, the busy Coruscant landscape. Les is much farther from him now, doing her best to also slow her breathing. He pushes the demand to clear her mind to her silently and he sees her stiffen and her shoulders rise up and down with calming, clearing breaths. She does it, he can tell, he can feel her muscles relaxing and her thoughts clearing and he feels a tiny sense of pride well up in his stomach.

Benji turns and leaves, not looking back. She’s going to do great things, and he can’t be there to stop her.

A month later, she’s in a meditation garden. He knows that because he walks down to the meditation rooms and as soon as he steps onto the designated floor, the built up, frantic energy of her is palpable. He can taste the sparks of her overrun mind on his tongue.

Benji walks past his usual room (dark, dark blue walls and lighting that is soft and wavelike on the ceiling and a low hum that never stops) and pushes open the glass door into the gardens. There’s different foliage that line a path and separate into orbs where Jedi can sit peacefully alone, surrounded by nature -- well as much nature as Coruscant can offer in the middle of the city. It smells damp and floral out here, and there is a buzz of insects and small birds. It’s nice, peaceful, but not Benji’s style.

She’s in a small turnout surrounded by green bushes that are dotted with yellow flowers that match her hair. Les is sitting on a patch of tall grass, eyes closed. Her brow is furrowed and her lips are moving slightly and he can hear every hushed demand in her throat, scattered in her mind. Benji steps to her, sitting down in front of her and slides his hand into hers. 

She isn’t startled, but there is a shift in her. She stiffens and her eyelids flutter but she doesn’t open them. He presses his finger onto the back of her hand and she inhales until he lets go, the air spilling out of her lungs and swirling between them. He joins her, closing his eyes and clearing his mind right along with her. He wants to see what she sees, what their future that they cannot have holds for them. He likes when he can see her smiling, topless and on a secluded beach on a planet he has not yet been to. He likes her lips on his stomach, his chest, his neck in the dark where there is no sight, only feeling. He sees her with an expanded stomach sometimes and it scares and excites him, sending his senses into overdrive.

Right now he doesn’t see anything like that, just the two of them in the meditation garden. Two padawans who need each other to be stronger, to feel balanced, but can’t be together because of their chosen lives. 

Benji stops pressing on her hand, the rhythm and strength of her breaths perfect, the clouds in her mind parting. His own mind clears, much faster and sharper than hers, and he sits, rests, clears his mind and allows paths to intersect and possibilities to play out behind his eyelids. They are soft and peaceful and he doesn’t try to pull back to reality for a long, long time.

He feels the soft breeze first, hears the trickle of a fountain, smells the faint scent of dirt and grass. Benji blinks his eyes open and sees Les, shining in the golden light of the descending sun, meditating. She’s peaceful, back straight and jaw slack. The open clarity of her mind so quiet now. He wonders what she’s exploring, where she’s choosing to look, what she’s choosing to ignore. Her hand is still laying in his, limp and warm. 

Slowly, she comes back, her breaths shortening and her shoulders slumping. She flutters her eyes open and shakes her head. Les’ fingers grip onto his hand and he holds hers back.

She pushes off the grass and lands right in his lap, kissing him. Benji yelps into her mouth, trying to gain balance and hold onto her, but she keeps him upright. Les slides her tongue along his lips before pushing into his mouth. Something hot and needy snaps inside Benji. He digs his hands into her hair and grips, pulling her close, their teeth bumping and hips moving. Les grinds down on his crotch and Benji groans her name against her neck. He’s in a whirlwind, a tornado, the air slipping against his skin, his hair, between and around them in a hostile fury that matches their desperation for each other. 

Benji slips her robe away from her neck as much as he can, kissing every bit of skin, pushing his tongue flat against her flesh. He dips lower and lower and Les responds with beautiful sounds that ring in his ears like music. He’s desperate to get closer to her, to make their bodies become one, and he has no idea how to do that, if that’s even possible, but he needs it. He wants to turn to liquid and seep into her skin and disappear, he wants to feel the frantic energy that surrounds her, become it. 

Les rubs her hands along his neck, into his hair, deep into his robes, fingernails trailing along his skin. She bites down in the spice between his Adam’s apple and his collar bone and it burns but he’d gladly let her devour him.

“Les, no,” Benji whimpers, gathering her face in his hands and kissing her. Their mouths open and tongues move in sloppy, perfect circles. “I can’t do this to you.”

Les grinds into his lap and his hands fall to her waist, guiding her. They muffle moans with their lips while hands slip underneath clothes, leaving Benji’s fingers aflame. 

“Do anything to me,” she whispers. “Do everything to me.”

Benji growls and pushes her down into the grass, pulling at the top of her robe. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants her closer, more bare, he needs all of her. Her breasts are almost exposed and he dips his mouth down, kissing all the blushed skin he can find. His mouth follows the curve of her breast and his tongue slips out and Les arches her back, groaning his name.

He sees her, then, on the Council. She’s older, incredibly beautiful, and proud. She is smiling as she sits in her chair, hands folded in her lap, intent and focused. She’s thinking something over, he can see the thoughts churning behind her eyes. It’s the most perfect she’s ever looked except when he’s seen her on the moon of Endor.

Benji pulls back, Les’ voice trickling out in a soft whimper of protest. He sits up, tugging her robe closed as he does. He puts his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. He notices his own robes are open and he quickly adjusts.

“I can’t… we can’t.” Benji shakes his head. Les is watching him, like she’s almost… afraid. “Let go of your fear, Les.” She tries, rubbing her hands together as if the fear will come out that way. “I don’t want to take the Council from you, we can’t do this, it’s unwise. It’s unfair to you.”

“I want you, Benji. I--”

“Don’t.”

Les gets up and moves toward him; he retracts. 

“I can’t be away from you. I’ve tried,” she says, defeated and fierce all at once.

He understands, he’s tried too. He nods and presses his forehead to hers, rubbing his thumb over her cheek.

“How do we do this?” he asks, the impossibility of their separation left unsaid but incredibly known.

“We don’t tell anyone, we follow this path and see where it leads us.”

“Come what may,” Benji says, kissing her.

“Yes,” she says, kissing him back.

He buzzes, his entire being alive underneath the movement of her lips and the slide of her fingers. Her breaths mingle with his until they’re breathing the same air, and his head is light and dizzy. 

“Marry me,” he whispers, “when we can -- however we can.”

“Yes.” A tear falls from her eye and Benji catches it before it reaches her chin. “Please.”

Benji wraps his arms around her and they sit together, their shaky promise seeping into his skin, etching into his bones. Benji notices the wind changing and the flowers are blooming just a bit brighter and bigger with the fading light of day.

“Did you see this?” Les asks into his neck.

Benji shakes his head, squeezing her tight.

“No, I didn’t.” 

Benji looks up at the sky, clouds shifting and stars unseen. Just because he doesn’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Like the stars, Benji accepts what he cannot foresee. He leaps, blinded, because he’s not alone. He’s whole.


End file.
